


Lily Gray

by glasssmoothie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dystopia, Execution, Government
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasssmoothie/pseuds/glasssmoothie
Summary: Keith Daniels just started working at a government prison. When he has to cover for another guard, he reunites with someone he once knew.
Kudos: 2





	Lily Gray

"Daniels, I know it's your first day, but I need to ask you a really big favor." 

"Yeah, sure, what is it Tom?" 

"My wife just called, I need to go, can you go grab the prisoner from cell 7B? I'm supposed to bring her to the courtyard in five minutes." 

"Yeah man, I've got you. Is she going into labor?" 

"Yeah, her water just broke. I'll call and let you know how it all goes." 

"Hurry up man, and take care." 

"Yeah you too." 

Tom ran out of the lounge to employee parking. I stood, straightened my uniform, and left out of the opposite door to the cell block. Up the stairs, past angry and dejected faces, until I came to 7B. Inside was a woman no older than me, sitting cross legged on the floor of the cell with her back to me. 

"Good morning, ma'am," I said, attempting to remain cordial. You never know what sorts of things these people are in here for. "I'm supposed to take you out to the courtyard. Stand up, hands out so I can cuff them." 

The woman stood in one smooth motion, her face illuminated by a small beam of sunlight peeking through the barred windows. I gawked with recognition. 

"Lily?" 

"Ah, Keith." She smirked. "I knew I was right to break up with you." After a long pause, she stuck out her hands. "Are you going to open up the cell and cuff me?" 

I shook my head, assumed my best poker face, and unlocked the cell. I paused before opening the door and latching the handcuffs onto her bony wrists. She gazed intensely at my face, but I kept my head down. 

"What are you in here for?" I asked. 

She scoffed, and said "Oh, you know the answer to that." 

I pulled on her cuffs, leading her out of the cell. "Rioting?" 

"Oh, hardly. It was peaceful until the police showed up, I assure you." 

"I'm sure all the shop owners with broken windows and looted stores would argue otherwise." 

"I'm sure they would, if it were the protestors that did it. The police broke those windows, and counter protesters looted stores to villainize us." 

"That's just a bunch of conspiracy theorist bullshit. Keep moving. You've got a date up in the courtyard." I looked up at her. She fixed me with that stare, that stare that used to melt me into a puddle of butterflies. It still did, but now her cheeks were gaunt with hunger and her hair was unwashed and tangled. There was a bruise on her forehead, from what I couldn't tell. A fist or a baton, most likely. She was not the same sun-shiney girl who had sat in the passenger seat of my car blaring cheesy pop music and sipping iced mochas that gave her the jitters. And yet, those beautiful, perfect eyes…. 

I yanked on her handcuffs and turned away from her. Down onto the ground floor, past the guards stationed at the doors, out into the courtyard in silence. I heard her gasp, felt her pull against me. I looked up. In the center of the courtyard was a large wooden structure with a noose. I faltered a moment, tripping on gravel, but caught myself and pulled her along, toward the warden. It was an impossibly long distance. 

"Keith." 

I ignored her. This was just a scare tactic, some ironic statement to use the Revolutionaries' favorite symbol against them. Hanging is too old fashioned, it has to be some cruel joke. 

"Keith!" 

"Keep walking." The distance between us and the warden was closing at an impossibly slow rate. I stared at the hanging structure. They couldn't really… they wouldn't… would they? 

"Keith, please." 

I refused to look at her face, but I could picture the puppy dog eyes. She could always persuade me to do anything with those eyes. I refused to believe that the noose was for her. No, they would ask her to confess, make her beg for forgiveness, and toss her back into her cell. It was all a fear tactic. She would not be hung today. 

"They're just trying to scare you." 

"Keith, don't be an idiot. Help me. Trip and fall and let go of the handcuffs. You won't be at fault. Please." 

She was just frightened. They would not hang her. I dared not look into her eyes, but stared at her wrists, bound in the handcuffs. She had a small sunshine tattooed on the inside of her left wrist. A lump formed in my throat, and I looked back up at the horrific structure. 

"Keith." 

The warden was getting ever closer. From behind the structure emerged a man with a balaclava obscuring his face. An executioner. 

"Keith, please, don't let them kill me." 

It was all a show. Just to scare her. 

"Keith!" 

"Shut up." 

We arrived at the spot where the warden sat, one leg crossed on top of the other, sitting in a metal folding chair. I shoved Lily toward him, and forced her to her knees. 

"Confess to your crimes, or face the noose," I commanded. 

The warden chuckled, and pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket. "There will be no need for that." He cleared his throat. "Lillianne Gray, you have been charged with vandalism, theft, and treason against the United States of America. You have been conspiring with the Revolutionaries, a terrorist group planning to overthrow your government and plunge your nation into anarchy, and you have joined them in spreading violence throughout the nation. For these crimes, you have been sentenced to death by hanging." 

"What?" I couldn't help myself. What about the part where she offers information in exchange for forgiveness? What about the part where she can denounce the other protesters in exchange for her life? The warden glared at me. 

"Is there a problem, Mr. Daniels?" 

I glanced down at Lily. She was sobbing quietly. I glanced at the warden. "No, sir." 

"Good. Executioner, she's all yours." 

I turned to head back to the prison, so I would not have to watch this horrific event unfold. How could they do this? She was only a protester, it wasn't like she had killed anyone—

"Mr. Daniels, stay. This is history. The first treasonous rebel to be executed here." I could not deny him, so I stood beside him and watched as the hooded executioner led Lily up the steps to the noose. She did not resist, but I could see her crying as she went. It went on for an impossibly long time. The weak autumn sun reached out through the dark gray clouds and caught on her hair, and I remembered the days before all of this chaos, before that last fight, when we would go out on picnics and talk about the future and opening up a roadhouse or a restaurant together. I remembered the ring in the drawer of my bedside table. If she'd only said yes, maybe we wouldn't be here now. 

She reached the top. The sun faded back behind the clouds. The executioner put a hood over her head, then the noose. Tightened the rope. Stepped off the trap door to a lever. Pulled it. 

Her momentary scream was cut off by a loud snap.

**Author's Note:**

> I was totally thinking about the Hunger Games while writing this. Let me know what you think!


End file.
